


Something Good

by lucewrites



Series: I'm Finally Where I'm Meant to Be [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Established Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Good Draco Malfoy, M/M, Stage Manager Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:49:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25544659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucewrites/pseuds/lucewrites
Summary: “We never told them we’re getting married, you dolt.”Harry’s eyes widened. He looked much more awake at that. “Oh, fuck.”-Or, Draco and Harry forgot inform their children of their impending nuptials.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: I'm Finally Where I'm Meant to Be [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1848361
Comments: 2
Kudos: 177





	Something Good

**Author's Note:**

> As promised, here is a much lighter little blurb set between parts one and two of this series. 
> 
> Title from The Sound of Music.

They had not told the children they were getting married, was the first thing Draco had thought one morning after he woke up. His eyes flew open. Fuck. 

Teddy and Andromeda knew they were getting married. Their friends all knew they were getting married. So why didn’t the children know? 

They’d gotten engaged in August, for Christ’s sakes. 

“Harry.” Draco murmured, gently patting the other man’s chest. 

Harry just shifted to cuddle into Draco’s side. 

Draco took a second to appreciate exactly how in love he was with this man, and then shook him. “Harry.” 

Harry groaned and flipped on his back. One green eye opened to focus on him. “What?” 

Draco kissed Harry’s forehead apologetically. “We never told the kids.” 

Harry blinked at him incredulously. “What? Draco, it’s too early for this.” 

Draco pouted and plucked his phone off his bedside table and pressed the home button to check the time. “Actually, it’s nine-thirty.” 

“Okay,” Harry groused, pushing himself in a sitting position. “Why are you fretting at nine-thirty?” 

Draco glared at the other man. “We never told the kids!” 

“Told them what, exactly?” 

Draco gave him a flat look. “We never told them we’re getting married, you dolt.” 

Harry’s eyes widened. He looked much more awake at that. “Oh, fuck.” 

“Exactly.” Draco rolled out of bed and reached for his trousers laying in a crumpled heap on the floor. He wrinkled his nose in distaste before tugging them on. “What are we going to do?” 

“Tell them, I suppose.” 

Draco walked over to where Harry was pulling a shirt on, and kissed him where he assumed the other man’s nose to be. “I’ll go make us a cuppa and we can figure it out then.” 

After a muffled affirmation, Draco left the bedroom to put the kettle on. While waiting for the water to boil, he groaned. How could they have forgotten to tell their own children? 

In his defense, Draco thought, his and Harry’s romance was a bit of a whirlwind. 

They had begun a tentative friendship a few years after the war. Draco had just reintroduced himself to the wizarding world in preparation for his wedding, and he had run into Harry at Flourish and Blotts while looking for a book on wizarding theatre. One thing led to another, and the next thing Draco remembers is sitting across from Harry in the three Broomsticks, reminiscing over the war and catching up. 

Harry had asked why he was looking for a book about theatre in the wizarding world, and when Draco explained he had a degree in muggle theatre and wanted to see how the two would compare, Harry had laughed. 

“I never pegged you to be one for theatre,” he had said.

Draco had grinned good-naturedly. “Yes, well it wasn’t something I could flaunt, now was it?” 

They had kept in touch over the years. Harry was the only one there for Draco when Astoria died, leaving him with a baby and not a clue what to do with himself. He was the one who held him as he had sobbed about how life was so cruel to him, to them, for leaving an innocent child without a mother. 

And when Draco had calmed down, Harry had poured him a cup of tea and sat there with him, staring at little Scorpius in his bassinet. 

“No child deserves to be without a mother, Draco,” he had said, his eyes still resting on the baby’s sleeping form. “But any child with you as their father is the luckiest in the world.” 

In turn, Draco was there when Harry and Ginny had finally gotten divorced. They had gotten wildly drunk that night, leaving sixteen-year-old Teddy to watch over the little ones. 

“I...I don’t think I ever really loved her, Draco,” Harry had confided. “I think we were each other’s source of comfort during the final years of the war, and then we just...stagnated.” 

Draco had hummed, taking a sip from his finger of Odgen’s. “I think...sometimes we don’t love the people we marry. Or sometimes we do and we just grow apart, but…” he shrugged. “I never loved Astoria romantically.” 

Harry had sputtered. “What?” 

Draco just shrugged again. “I’m gay. Astoria knew that, and we planned on ending the marriage as soon as Scorpius was weaned, but....That does not change the fact that she was one of my closest friends, and I miss her dearly.” 

  
  


If Draco could pinpoint a moment where things changed between them, that night was the first that came to mind. 

Now, they were getting married, and Draco couldn’t be happier. 

The kettle began to whistle, and Draco pulled two mugs and tea bags from the cupboard. He placed the tea bags in the mugs and poured the water over them, letting them steep while he went to get the milk from the fridge. He put the milk on the counter, and reached for the sugar on the shelf above the stove, before feeling strong arms wrap around his waist. 

“You up now?” Draco asked, pulling the sugar from the shelf and placing it on the counter. He turned around in Harry’s arms so he could face the man. 

“Yes, dear,” Harry said with a smile. 

Draco let out a hum, and stepped out of Harry’s embrace. He mixed the milk and sugar into their teas, and grabbed the mugs to go sit at the kitchen table. He left the milk and sugar on the counter for Harry to put away while he was at the theater later. 

“So,” Harry sighed, sitting across from Draco at the table. He briefly sipped his tea, before putting his mug down. “We forgot to tell the kids?” 

Draco worried his bottom lip with his teeth and nodded. “How did we even forget? It’s not as if this is a little thing.” 

“It has been a busy time for us, love.” 

“I know.” Draco knew Harry was right. What with his job at the theatre, and Harry’s recent promotion to Head Auror, they never had the time to sit down and call people to tell them the good news. 

“Well, what do you want to do, then?” Harry took another sip of his tea. 

Draco sighed. “We have to tell them somehow. I don’t want to do it over a letter, though. That feels too impersonal.” 

Harry nodded. “I agree.” 

A pause. 

“The winter hols are coming up. We could tell them then?” 

Draco sighed again, this one more drawn out than the last. “That’s too close to Christmas. I don’t want them to get off the Express and then have us tell them we’re engaged and spending the holiday together as a family. That’s too much at once.” 

“We could ask Minerva if we could use the floo in her office and fire-call them?” 

Draco gave Harry a shrewd look. “That’s allowed?” 

Harry shrugged. “It is in case of emergency.” 

“Harry! This isn’t an emergency.” 

“No, but is big enough news to warrant a fire-call, yes?” Harry looked at Draco, his eyes soft. “We don’t have another option, love. Albus and Scorpius aren’t old enough for us to meet them in Hogsmeade, and unless you want to tell them over dinner when they are on break this is the best idea.” 

Draco rolled his eyes. Deep down, he knew Harry was right. “Fine. But you’re the one calling Minerva, not I.” 

Harry smiled and laughed. “Yes, dear.” 

Draco pushed himself up from the table and went to get dressed for work. “Good!” he called back to his finance, a secret smile on his face. 

Minerva said yes to the firecall. 

Draco was fine with that, of course. Like he told Harry, it would be too impersonal to just write the children a letter informing of their upcoming nuptials. And to do so over the Christmas holiday would be too much all at once, at least for him.

A little voice in his head that sounded strangely like his late mother told him that there never would be a good time for this sort of thing. 

Draco also knew, deep down, that he was overthinking this. He had a tendency to do so, especially after the war, but this was something not even he could predict the outcome of, and he was starting to spiral. 

What would Scorpius think? His son knew he was gay - Draco had made sure to be as open with the boy as he could - but he had never met one of Draco’s lovers before. And now Draco was getting married, and while he had mentioned that he was seeing someone in a letter to Scorpius a few months ago, he had never mentioned exactly who he was seeing. 

He hadn’t mentioned he was seeing his son’s best friend’s father. 

There had to be some sort of code against this, right? Some sort of rule Draco was breaking? 

When he expressed this to Ella before the first crew meeting for  _ The Sound of Music _ , she just laughed. “Draco,” she said, “It’ll be fine. If anything, your son will be happy to have his best friend as a step-brother.” 

“Yes, but. Ella, I’ve never met James or Lily. I’ve only met Albus, and that’s because he’s my son’s best friend.” 

“Okay, and? What’s the problem with that?” 

Draco threw his hands up in the air, gesticulating wildly. “What if they don’t like me? I’m to be their stepfather and all I have preceding me is my less than savory reputation.” 

Ella just blinked at him. “Draco, the war was years ago. Are you seriously still on about that?” 

He would never quite get over it, Draco thought, but he didn’t say that. “There’s also the fact that my family has a centuries long blood feud with their mother’s family.” 

Ella just shook her head. “You’ll be fine, Draco. I’m sure of it. When even is the call, anyways?” 

Draco just groaned. “Tonight, after Harry gets home from work.” 

Ella shook her head as they stepped into the conference room. “You’ll be fine.” 

But Draco wasn’t fine. Far from it. 

By the time Harry had returned from work, Draco was on his third glass of his favorite Rosé and teetering on the edge from tipsy to drunk. 

When he saw Harry depositing his leather jacket on the coat rack in the doorway, he called his name. “Harry!” 

Harry looked startled and turned to see the other man draped across the sofa in a rather dramatic fashion. “Draco?” 

Draco giggled. “You’re home! Oh, Harry, I’m so glad! I get rather lonely all by myself like this.” He felt all warm and fuzzy, his thoughts thick and syrupy. 

Harry frowned from his spot by the coat rack. He walked over to the other man, reaching out a hand to brush against Draco’s forehead. “Are you feeling alright, love?” 

“I feel fabulous! I hope you don’t mind, I got into that wine Pansy brought when she last visited for dinner.” 

“I can see that, darling. Why did you do that, exactly? You know we have the call in a few minutes?” 

Draco pouted. He knew that. He just needed to relax a bit. 

“I didn’t realize you were that nervous,” Harry remarked. He had an unreadable expression on his face. 

“Did I say that out loud?” Draco asked. 

Harry nodded, that same expression on his face. 

Draco felt himself flush. “Oh, dear.” 

Harry sighed. “I’m going to get you a sober-up potion. Just...stay there, okay?” 

“Okay!” 

When Harry returned with the potion, he took Draco’s glass and told him to drink up. 

The potion worked almost immediately, and when he was finally sober again, Draco hung his head. “I’m sorry.” 

Harry just nodded. “You want to tell me what that was about?” 

“I…” Draco didn’t know how to articulate it. 

When he said as much, Harry shook his head. “Try. Do you not want to get married?” 

Draco’s head whipped up to look at the other man, his eyes wide. “No! No, Harry, of course I want to get married. I love you.” 

Harry looked relieved. “Then why…?” 

Draco looked away. “I...I’m wary of telling the children.” 

“Why?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. I just...I’ve never introduced Scorpius to any lover of mine, you know this.” At Harry’s nod, he continued. “And I wonder what his reaction will be now that I’m actually getting married to you.” 

Harry looked confused. “But didn’t you say you told him you were seeing someone.” 

Draco bobbed his head in assent. “I did, but I never mentioned it was you. And also, I’m nervous about telling your children, as well.” 

“Why?” 

Draco rolled his eyes. “Honestly, Harry. Pick any reason. I was a Death Eater, I had a part in killing their uncle, my family has a blood feud with their mother’s family, my father even almost killed their mother, and -” 

“Draco.” Harry was frowning again. “None of these things define you, and that was twenty years ago, now. It’s in the past. The Draco that I know - the one I love - is a certified theatre nerd with a major caffeine addiction and a flair for the dramatic. He cries while watching  _ Finding Nemo _ and gets a new manicure every two weeks. The Draco I know loves with every fibre of his being, and I love him unequivocally in return. The kids will love you just as I do, darling.” 

Draco played off the stinging behind his eyelids for having a speck of dust caught in his eye. “Damn you for always knowing what to say, Potter.” 

Harry laughed. “You’re welcome.” 

“If you tell anyone I cry when watching  _ Finding Nemo _ \- or that I even know what that is - I will smother you in your sleep.” 

“Sure you will.” 

“I’m serious. You’ve already altered your will so I am included in it. As soon as we’re married I’ll have no use for you, and then I’ll be a very wealthy man.” 

Harry kept laughing. “You already are a wealthy man.” 

Draco huffed. “Then I’ll become even wealthier.” 

A stern voice coming from the floo spoke up then. “Draco, I do hope you aren’t contemplating murder again.” 

Draco and Harry blinked at each other before turning in the direction of the fireplace. Sure enough, Minerva McGonagall’s shrewd face was hovering in the flames. 

Draco flushed scarlet. “No, madam.” 

Harry snickered. “Good evening, Minerva. How are you?” 

McGonagall turned her withering gaze on Harry. “Very well, Mr. Potter. And yourself?” 

“I’m just dandy,” Harry beamed. 

“Dandy? Who even says that?” Draco muttered under his breath. 

“It would seem your Harry does, Mr. Malfoy.” McGonagall remarked. 

Draco plastered a smile on his face, feeling very much like the schoolboy he was when he had last spoken to McGonagall. “Yes, Madam.” 

Harry looked delighted at that, and Draco shot him a quick glare. 

“Your children are here for whenever you wish to speak to them, gentlemen.” McGonagall informed. 

Draco and Harry blinked. He shot Harry a panicked look. 

“We’ll speak to them now, if that is alright with you.” Harry dictated. 

Draco sighed. “Yes, please, if you will.” 

Harry elbowed him in the side when McGonagall removed her head from the floo. “Be nice.” He murmured. 

“Oh, please, Harry, I feel like a child again,” Draco pouted. 

And then his son’s voice came from the floo. “Dad? Why are you calling Mr. Potter Harry?” 

Draco froze. “Scorpius! How are you, darling? I hope your studies are going well?” 

His son gave him a flat look from the fireplace. “I’m fine, Dad, and so are my studies. Now what’s all this about?” 

Suddenly, three more heads popped in the floo, all nodding their agreement. 

Draco turned to Harry, who looked just as nervous as he felt. “Ah, hello, little Potters,” he said, the corner of his mouth curling up. 

They all chirped their hellos in almost perfect unison. 

Draco smiled, feeling almost excited for the first time that day. “Well, little Potters, and Scorpius, of course, I believe your father and I have something we wish to tell you. Do be polite and wait for us to finish, yes?” Draco flashed them all a shrewd look, but it only seemed to pique their curiosity. Scorpius seemed close to figuring it all out. 

He nudged Harry with his shoulder. The other man jumped, then cleared his throat. “Er, yes. Well.” He scratched his head in thought, giving Draco a wide-eyed look. “Um. Draco - that is, Scorpius’s father - and I have been seeing each other for some time now. And we decided to get married.” 

Draco flashed Harry a nervous smile before turning to the kids in the floo. “We understand that this may come as a shock to you all, but I do hope we’ll all get along.” It struck Draco how much he sounded very much like an evil-stepmother just then, and he winced. “That is, I can’t wait to meet all of you properly…” 

The children were all wide-eyed. Scorpius especially. 

Nobody said anything for a while. Harry looked just as panicked as Draco felt, and Draco had resorted to putting up the signature Malfoy mask. When he looked to Scorpius, he saw that his son had done the same. 

James, Harry’s eldest, broke the silence. “Congratulations, Dad. Mr. Malfoy. When’s the wedding, then?” 

Harry slumped next to him in relief. “We haven’t got that far yet, I’m afraid. Draco’s been too involved with the theatre and I’ve had too much paperwork so we haven’t gotten to do much planning.” 

Draco rolled his eyes upon hearing that. “I plan and execute productions for a living, Harry. I’ve had our wedding planned since we were at least fifteen years old.” 

Harry laughed. “I stand corrected.” 

Draco sent him a quick smile, before his brow furrowed. Scorpius was still wearing that awful mask. He had learned it from seeing Draco do it, no doubt, and damn, if Draco didn’t wish he wasn’t so emotionally stunted. “Scorpius?” 

Scorpius raised an eyebrow in a rare display of attitude. 

Draco winced. “Is everything okay, love?”

He heard McGonagall in the background tell the Potter children to leave them for a minute. They left quietly, no doubt sensing the tension in the room. 

Scorpius’s mask fell. “Why didn’t you tell me it was Harry, dad?” 

“Oh, Scorpius…” Draco didn’t know what to say. “I...well, I needed to see if it would last, darling. I wasn’t going to tell you who I was seeing until I knew it was permanent.” 

Draco felt Harry’s hand gently wrap around his in support. “It was a mutual decision, Scorpius,” the other man said. “I didn’t tell Albus exactly who I was seeing either.” 

Scorpius nodded, then brightened. Draco felt himself sag in relief. 

“Wait,” his son said, a devious smirk morphing his face. “Was Harry the reason you suddenly learned how to cook a few years ago?”

Draco felt himself flush. “No,” he lied through his teeth, “I just figured that we couldn’t live on takeout forever.” 

Scorpius nodded. “Yes, and that so explains why you learned how to make treacle tart and tikka masala?” 

Draco nodded, trying to keep a straight face. “Yes.” 

“But you hate treacle tart and tikka is too spicy for you.” 

Out the corner of his eye, Draco could see Harry put a fist to his mouth to hide his laughter. He pointedly ignored that and said to his son, “Yes, but I have grown to love it.” 

Scorpius nodded. “Right. Even if you said it made you, quote, shit bricks?” 

Harry let loose a guffaw. Draco scowled. “Okay, look. I do not need your sass, Scorpius Abraxas Malfoy. And watch your tongue! It’s very unbecoming of you.” 

Scorpius rolled his eyes. “Sure, dad.” 

Draco sighed. “Tell Madame McGonagall to let the little Potters return, if you please.” 

Upon the little Potters’ return, the happy couple were offered many more congratulations, and they ended the call with happy hearts. 

Later, when Draco and Harry were curled up in bed, and Draco had just reached over to turn off the Tiffany lamp on his bedside table, Harry chuckled to himself and pulled Draco closer. 

“What is it?” Draco murmured, quiet in the darkness. 

He could feel the other man’s smile when Harry said. “You learned how to make tikka masala for me.” 

Draco huffed into his fiance’s chest. “Your point?” 

“No one ever bothered to cook for me before you, let alone make my favorites.” Harry’s voice was soft, nostalgic. 

Draco was mildly infuriated at that, at how Harry said it so simply. He and Harry had talked in depth about their respective childhoods, and Draco was astonished at how giving the other man could be, considering how little he received for the majority of his life. Draco wouldn’t be. 

“Yes, well,” Draco paused for effect. “You deserve it.” He was silent for a moment before continuing, “You deserve the world, Harry.” 

Harry just hummed from underneath Draco, and kissed his forehead. “I’m so glad I’m marrying you.” 

Draco smiled, cheeks heating despite himself. “I love you, too.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
